Unconventional buildings and unusual places in Hong Kong

Highcliff is a luxury apartment block built on the slopes of the mountain in Happy Valley. Designed by DLN Architects & Engineers, the 75-storey tower has won several design awards. What makes Highcliff unusual is not its premium location or expensive real estate price tag, but the fact that it is extremely thin for such a tall building. It has a slenderness ratio of 1:20 between its width and height, making it one of the thinnest buildings in the world at that height. A tuned mass damper that helps to stabilise the building against violent motion has therefore been fitted at the top, the first of its kind for a residential building.

The Lai Tak Tsuen public housing estate was built in 1975, making it one of Hong Kong’s first public housing developments. Public housing that came later was modelled after how Lai Tak Tsuen provided amenities like shops, market stalls, a carpark, schooling, a library, sports grounds, and a children’s playground located below the residences. It consists of three high-rise buildings in total – Lai Kit Lau, Tak Chuen Lau, and Tsuen Wing Lau.

What makes Lai Tak Tsuen unusual is that these blocks are Hong Kong’s only public rental buildings to boast a cylindrical structure, a design which was award-winning back in the 70s. Whether looked down from above or viewed from below, the building is stunning with its open top and somewhat resembles a space portal. This circular atrium was used as a filming location for the Ghost in the Shell live-action film in 2017.

Tung Ping Chau – perhaps the most far-flung island in the city – is closer to the mainland than Hong Kong; it was therefore a destination for Chinese refugees in the 50s and 60s. Visitors can literally see Shenzhen in the distance from the shore, and some mobile phones can even pick up on faint cellular network signals from the mainland.

Over 2,000 farmers and fishermen used to inhabit the island, but as time passed, job prospects in the city lured many away, and only 50 to 60 people live there full-time, mostly elderly. Some descendants of former residents return over the weekends or public holidays, operating restaurants and dormitories for visitors, who can explore abandoned houses of former residents, which have been rapidly reclaimed by nature, a Tin Hau temple, as well as a boarded-up colonial-era training camp.

Burma Lines (formerly known as the Queen’s Hill Camp) is a disused former British army barrack located in the backyard of the Queen’s Hill public housing estate in Fanling. What sets Burma Lines apart from other colonial-era barracks is that the site contains a near-intact Hindu temple, where the camp’s Ghurkas went to worship.

Dedicated to Shiva, the Hindu god of destruction, the temple has been vacant since 1996 but obtained grade-three heritage status thanks to the efforts of heritage campaigners. It’s a visually striking building, arranged in a hexagonal structure with five entrances, resembling a lotus flower, a symbol of beauty and holiness in Hinduism. Although much of the paint outside is rotting away and losing its colour, the interior is in relatively good condition, with the walls being painted a handsome shade of deep blue and red.

Look out the window while traversing the eastern corridor, and you might take notice of one particularly monolithic building passing you by. That is Provident Center, a private residential estate in North Point built in 1984. There isn’t much historically significant about Provident Center itself, but its architectural style is interesting. That hulking, sea-facing façade reflects the social conditions of the era it was built in when the government was under particularly high pressure to build new homes. Building codes were more lenient back then, and developers would push them to their limits, constructing buildings designed to accommodate as many residents as possible – hence the sheer length of the block. However, such buildings significantly restricted airflow and natural light from reaching the urban environments below them, which is why building codes have been rewritten to favour slimmer towers.

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The Sea Ranch is a small private housing estate tucked away in the southern corner of Lantau. It was originally a getaway for the city’s swankiest socialites. Promotional brochures from the time billed it as ‘the exclusive resort club of Hong Kong’, with spacious serviced apartment units, a massive private clubhouse, luxury restaurants, and most importantly, a sprawling, gorgeous beach out front. Sadly, the Sea Ranch eventually collapsed under the weight of its own ambitions and piled up a hefty $7 million debt just years after opening. This resulted in the holding company being sold to its residents for a nominal $1. Shortly after, most residents moved away, leaving a ghost town in their wake. 

However, there has been a surprising wave of renewed interest in Sea Ranch in recent years, with some figures indicating a 70 percent occupancy rate. It’s possible to book a short stay in a hostel there, but the grand prize is actually owning a unit, a thought not entirely outside the realm of possibility given the estate’s significantly cheaper housing prices. The trade-off? No broadband internet, shops of any kind, or even road access, and since the property has been neglected, residents need to pay for renovations. Residents must also structure their schedules around the private ferry to Cheung Chau, the only transportation link between Sea Ranch and the rest of Hong Kong.

While visiting Sea Ranch itself is trespassing – any attempt to take the private ferry will immediately result in a forced return trip, courtesy of the estate’s security guards – the beach is supposedly open to the public, and can be reached via a trek from Pui O or chartering a private sampan from Cheung Chau to nearby Tai Long Wan.

Tai On Building in Shau Kei Wan is worth visiting for the food alone. It’s well known for housing an entire world of eateries, offering exciting new fares such as loaded hot dogs and classic eats like egg waffles, scallion pancakes, and cart noodles.

But its architectural history is also significant. Much like Chungking Mansions, Tai On is a composite building with very few restrictions on their internal use. People lived on the top floors, and businesses occupied the ground floors, creating self-sufficient worlds inside these buildings. For the same reasons as  Provident Center, composite buildings eventually fell out of favour. And while these buildings aren’t all that rare in Hong Kong, few are as lively or large as Tai On Building. It’s one of the few that feels like a completely new world once you step inside.

Hong Kong was well-known as a manufacturing hub even as recently as the 80s. While traces of that era aren’t exactly fading away rapidly – after all, popular areas like Wong Chuk Hang and Kwun Tong are full of modern industrial buildings – it’s a history that is still well worth preserving.

Chun Shing Factory Estate immediately stands out from the many generic industrial buildings you might be familiar with as it sports a colourful orange and purple colour that catches the eye. It’s also unusual because it has lengthy open-air corridors, making it look like a wider version of a traditional ‘old slab’ style public housing estate.

The estate is one of the few industrial buildings that are government-built and owned. Most were either demolished or converted – the Jockey Club Creative Arts Centre is the most notable example – but Chun Shing is one of those that remain in use. However, the housing authority has begun to assess the feasibility of converting the remaining factory estates into public housing, meaning that Chun Shing might not be in its current state for much longer.

Unlike the State Theatre in North Point, which was more of a premium experience, Fortuna Theatre was more akin to a local neighbourhood joint. Built in 1979 to serve residents from nearby Wah Fu public housing estate, the theatre had a 1,274-seat auditorium complete with balcony and stall seating. However, it was eventually split into two auditoriums during the 90s.

Ever since it shut its doors in 2000, things have been complicated for Fortuna Theatre – it sporadically reopened for a few days every year until 2005, when it was rebranded as the Hong Kong Opera House. A local businessman reportedly had the idea to stage transgender shows there and bus in tourists to see them. One thing led to another, and the theatre fully ceased operations in 2008. With the impending redevelopment of Wah Fu, the future of Fortuna Theatre is now even more uncertain.

Step aside Sai Kung – Fairview Park is as close to true suburbia as one can get in Hong Kong. A large private residential estate built in 1976 out in Yuen Long, its residents live in neatly arranged low-rise houses – each complete with front and backyards – making the place seem a lot more like a quiet American suburb. Estate residents aren’t starved of facilities either, as Fairview Park has its own schools, a country club, various parks, restaurants, clinics, and even a dedicated sewage treatment plant. There’s also a 15,000 sq m large artificial lake that proudly sits in the town centre.

When ATV finally ceased their broadcasts on April 1, 2016, the city stopped for a brief moment of silence – and then promptly proceeded to move on. There was no special programming to mark the occasion, no outpour of public support demanding that their broadcast license be renewed. It was a wholly uneventful affair because everybody had seen it coming. The 57-year-old broadcaster had been in decline for years – their news department took a severe blow to their credibility after falsely reporting the death of a Chinese official – and their programming had grown increasingly asinine and uninspired. Near the end of its time, they had also become publicly embroiled in controversies about unpaid wages.

Once serving as a studio for ATV, this factory building in Ho Chung was abandoned in 2007. It quickly became popular amongst urban explorers and graffiti artists, who covered every inch of the building with their artwork. It actually had a brief moment in the spotlight in 2015 when the police uncovered a bomb-making scheme that operated out of the building, and security has been tight ever since. As with any good abandoned building in HK, there are also rumours that it’s haunted.

This studio is one of the few physical things we have left to remember ATV. The next time you’re on your way to Sai Kung, peer out the window – you might catch a glimpse of this building, with its rusting, sun-faded vintage logo serving as a reminder of Hong Kong’s golden age of television.